


Two shades of grays

by Itsamess



Category: Dorian Gray (2009), The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody, Book References, F/M, Gen, Obvious crossover, Regrets, Victorian Attitudes, also because guests are immortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsamess/pseuds/Itsamess
Summary: "You’ve hidden away your portrait," Tessa said in a colorless voice, keeping her eyes fixed on Dorian."A matter of modesty," he replied without flinching. "I realized that hanging one’s own image in the living room was as tastless as laughing at one’s own jokes."He lowered his head slightly and bent down to kiss Tessa’s hand."Lady Herondale," he murmured in a velvet voice "you haven't aged a day.""I could say the same about you, Dorian."He smiled."Oh, you’re flattering me!”"How silly of me, I actually meant to pity you." she replied icily. "Unlike you, I have never considered immortality a privilege."------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Tessa Gray meets Dorian Gray, because London is not that big and immortals all know each other anyway.
Relationships: Tessa Gray/Will Herondale
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Two shades of grays

**Author's Note:**

> Again, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake.

“ _Dorian Gray is delighted to invite Mr. and Mrs. Herondale to his evening reception. This Friday, eight o’clock._ ” Will read aloud, turning the invitation over and over. It was a thick, ivory colored cardboard. Expensive. The back of it was decorated with a small floral motif, which symmetrically bloomed on both sides of the DG monogram. Will thought it would have been a good bookmark - also because he liked to see his name written next to Tessa's, here pompously called Mrs. Herondale. He turned the invitation again: nothing. He remained silent for a moment, confused, and then said: "But there’s no address."

"Because everyone knows where he lives," Tessa replied, without even looking up from her book. "Dorian Gray is a very prominent man. According to Magnus his parties are legendary, but I’ve never had the pleasure to attend. "

"Dorian Gray ..." he repeated slowly, letting that name lie on his lips as if he was trying to weigh it up "yes, I recall reading something about him in the newspapers, perhaps in the society page. I’m just wondering why he decided to invite us to his reception ... Is he a friend of yours, Tess? "

She blushed, but quickly looked down.  
“Colleague, in a way. But I can't say I know him well. "  
Tessa thought back to a night many years earlier, to the horrified expression on Magnus' face when he had finally revealed her the truth about the mysterious Dorian Gray. "In fact, sometimes I wonder if I know him at all."

Will noticed her expression and frowned. He had always been good at understanding how she felt, as if her emotions were as easy to read as footnotes.  
“Hey, we don't have to go if you don't feel like it. Let's send a telegram and decline the invitation, "Will murmured, gently taking her hand. He ran his thumb over its back. "There will be other occasions. Other receptions, other dances. "

"No," she replied, a little too quickly. She hated to hear him talk about the future in that heedless tone, as if it were an unlimited supply of time from which they could draw and draw and draw forever. “No, we should accept the invitation. It will be fun".

\---

The last time Tessa had been there, Dorian Gray’s reputation was still a clean title page and all the rumors about him were nothing but whispers.

In those days, being around him wasn’t considered inconvenient or potentially dangerous, but it was actually the latest trend of the London _societè_ , which would have given anything to receive the invitation to one of his exclusive and highly exquisite parties. Then things had changed. Bad business, to be honest: Mr. Gray was said to have dishonored many hitherto respectable girls, pushing more than one of them to commit suicide; his adventures in the worst taverns of the city were notorious, and people looked down at his debauchery in drinking, his immoderation in doing drugs and his lack of scruples in buying gemstones from shady smugglers. In the downfall of his reputation, even Magnus Bane had decided to stop accepting Dorian Gray's invitations, and Tessa had no longer had the chance to meet the mysterious landlord who more than once had opened the doors of his extraordinary mansion for her.

When she came back to his apartment that night she noticed that the furniture arrangement had completely changed: there was a new art Nouveau table in the middle of the room, and the Persian rug had been moved or thrown away, perhaps to highlight the marvelous marble floors, speckled with purple veins. Not that these changes were strange: Dorian had always been careful to follow the latest fashions in terms of furniture, art and music.

But there was something else different in the room. An absence that few people would have noticed, but that somehow changed everything.

"You’ve hidden away your portrait," Tessa said in a colorless voice, keeping her eyes fixed on Dorian.

"A matter of modesty," he replied without flinching. "I realized that hanging one’s own image in the living room was as tastless as laughing at one’s own jokes."

He lowered his head slightly and bent down to kiss Tessa’s hand.  
"Lady Herondale," he murmured in a velvet voice "you haven't aged a day."

"I could say the same about you, Dorian."

He smiled.  
"Oh, you’re flattering me!”

"How silly of me, I actually meant to pity you." she replied icily. "Unlike you, I have never considered immortality a privilege."  
They were dangerous speeches, which Tessa would never have dreamed of making in public, but the noise in the room was so loud that it almost completely covered her words, so that no stranger could have overheard their conversation. And for what purpose? The people who were invited to Dorian Gray's parties knew his reputation all too well. Random hints to black magic and bargaining one’s soul wouldn’t have bothered them.  
"Honestly, it has always seemed more like a curse to me."

Dorian didn't seem surprised at the answer.  
"If you despise me so much, why did you accept my invitation?"

The question, as simple as it was honest, took her by surprise, also because she didn’t know what to say. They weren't friends and they didn't particularly like each other. So why had she come? Dorian had every right to ask. Tessa blushed: was it possible that it was simple curiosity, that a sick form of Schadenfraude had made her want to see with her own eyes the ruin of the much-discussed Dorian Gray? She had hoped to be a little better than that.  
"I don't despise you," she replied quickly. "Believe me, I have no resentment against you and you have never wronged me personally."  
She met his gaze and was surprised to notice how normal and ordinary and human is eyes were. She had always thought that the eyes were a window to the soul, and that - consequently - Dorian Gray’s would have been as empty as a mirror in front of which no one passes.  
"I just don't understand you," she admitted, shrugging. "As I was told, you chose immortality and eternal youth with the same nonchalance with which you would have chosen a wallpaper."

“Trust me, I spent much more time choosing this wallpaper. The one purchased by the previous owner was a real crime against good taste. "

She ignored that comment.  
“You know what I mean. Others of us haven’t been so lucky. Others of us haven’t had the opportunity to choose. "

“Everyone picks their own poison, it’s true” Dorian granted her “but it's poison nonetheless. I wouldn’t call myself - what did you say? – _lucky_ , or luckier than you. I just chose to take on another perspective. To see the perks of our common situation. "

Being immortal. Knowing with certainty that you will always be there for your family. Holding your grandchildren, and their grandchildren, and their grandchildren. Being useful. Staying forever young and pretty, just you were on the night of the masquerade ball when you had realized you were in love with Will. Never growing old, and spending your evenings in the library and not in front of the dressing table like Charlotte and Sophie and Cecily, who put margarine on their lips every night to keep them soft and exchanged homemade recipes on how to hide wrinkles. Visiting the Spiral Labyrinth and spending all the time in the world doing research. Meeting Jem again, maybe, in the future. Living a second life with him. Seeing Magnus finally being happy with someone. Reading thousands and thousands and thousands of books, forever and ever.

"There are no perks," Tessa lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Dorian smiled, as if that lie had delighted him.  
He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear: "I believe you do".

"Oh there you are, Tessa!"

She immediately turned to him, red in the face.  
"Will!"

"Where were you? This party was a bore without you,” he complained. "My whole life is, without you."

“I was chatting with the landlord. Will, have you met Dorian before? "

"I don't think I've ever had the pleasure, no ..." he murmured, making a slight bow. "Will Herondale, at your service, Mr. Gray."

“Oh, call me Dorian! So you must be Tessa's husband. A lucky man, if I may. "

"The luckiest of all," he agreed, holding her close. "Which is why, Mr. Gray, I thank you for the splendid reception, but I must ask you to to forgive me if I temporarily requisition my wife."  
He turned to her and asked, "What do you say, Tess? Would you like to dance, just like the old days? "

The girl burst out laughing.  
"You make it sound like it's been years since we last danced together!"

"Well, it actually is," he replied. "We haven’t been dancing together since the birthday party for Charlotte and Henry's second child."

Tessa glanced nervously at Dorian.  
"Oh really? Time flies."

"It always does when one’s happy," Will replied, kissing her on the cheek. "So, how about our dance?"

Tessa nodded energetically and tried to push back the tears. The bubble, that timeless perfect spell had broken. She noticed a new white hair above her husband's left ear, but she tried to ignore it. 

They would have never been able to dance like the night of the masquerade ball again, because with age Will's movements had become slower. He had had a bad fight with a _drevak_ a few years earlier, and he has been slightly limping since then. His eyes - once the deepest blue Tessa had ever seen – were now grayer and due to a slight cataract he couldn’t read by the fireplace without using an oil lamp. Small wrinkles like dog ears crossed his cheeks, but they were less visible when he smiled and Will often smiled because he was happy and that was what counted and that was what Tessa had to keep in mind.

He was getting older - he was dying - but he was getting older with her, and she learned a lesson: if you want a happy ending you must also be ready to accept the idea that the story, at some point, ends.

Will was still looking at her, waiting for an answer.  
She nodded and took his hand.  
"It would be a pleasure, Will"


End file.
